


Sometimes wishes don't come in time.

by TheTimeLimit



Category: Animaniacs
Genre: Angst, Brothers, Death, Family Drama, Family Feels, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Protective Siblings, Siblings, Sick Character, yakko angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-13 07:42:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29398548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheTimeLimit/pseuds/TheTimeLimit
Summary: "Wakko's wish"Only the setting unfolds in a much more depressing and terrifyingly realistic way.Where the antagonist is a disease.
Comments: 12
Kudos: 27





	Sometimes wishes don't come in time.

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: ANGST like...a lot  
> Who warns doesn't betray.  
> I have a problem with the TIME?  
> Yes.
> 
> [ACLARATION] English is not my native language. I write the stories in Spanish and then translate them into English with some improvements, but only that. So if they find faults they can let me know cordially. I'm learning the language making cómics and fanfics, so...sorry for any error you can found 😢🙏💕

Silence. 

Yakko had become accustomed to silence even though it was something he hated, but he learned to be distracted by other things in order to tolerate the long hours of silence. For example, his emaciated reflection. 

He stood for a couple of seconds in front of the broken mirror in front of him, a three-part fragmented mirror that he had obtained from the remains left inside the orphanage at the time of its closure and which he placed in the precarious makeshift bath that they had at their disposal. Usually Dot took care of a time to keep the mirrors of the home clean, after all she enjoyed appreciating his own cuteness in them, it was his favorite pastime, so she cared for them as a personal treasure that she shared with his brothers. However, when she began to get sick she slowly lost his charm. A dull hair, pale, dark circles, tired look and thin face were what was reflected, it was emaciated. 

It was no surprise that said mirror was now broken to pieces. That spoke of his little sister's state of mind at the time; it must have been hard for her to see that terrible transition. 

Yakko sometimes missed seeing her at the orphanage table fixing his hair with a smile, bathing in the morning sunlight while they waited for breakfast, if there was something to eat; but still, at that time he remembered her radiant and happy. It seemed like such a distant memory since she had fallen ill, ever since it got so gradually worse that she didn't realize how life was slipping out of their hands. He and his siblings were orphans, poor, and lacked many things; but at least they had happy times and health there. 

Now there was none of that anymore, until the little happiness they had was taken from them. 

Yakko coughed a little, feeling his throat cold and dry from the morning cold; had stood there completely immersed in his thoughts. He didn't want to keep thinking about his sister, but the cough relocated him from the start and again looked in the mirror, seeing the fragmented reflection of a tired teenager, it was him. Sometimes he looked so bad that he didn't recognize himself. Maybe this was the kind of feeling that accompanied Dot throughout his illness, he understood how she felt. 

"... Dot." he murmured under his breath. He really didn't want to think about her, but he couldn't help it. 

XXXXXXXXXXX 

Last year's winter had been particularly heartless for the people. Came with many icy storms and winds that threatened to wipe everything out in his wake; there were really days when the villagers couldn't get out because their lives were in danger. And while it was an impediment to the collection of food, water and other needs, but was especially terrible for the three orphans living inside an old, destroyed water tower made of wood. 

From the first days of winter, the weather had been charged with worsening Dot's condition, it seemed almost on purpose as there were no days and nights when moisture did not permeate in the bones of his fragile body, or that the cold would not dry his throat. If Dot could have talked without coughing, she would have cursed like the lady she was. 

Many days had been so, but it was a specific night where the noise of a storm seemed to silence his loud whining, wallowing over the damp, cold blankets in his bed. His cough attacks had worsened so much in the last week that sometimes she did not have time to recompose, often drowning to the point of not being able to breathe. 

The acute pain inside his throat and chest was such that she drowned his head under the pillow completely, voluntarilys venting only to avoid pain and breathe cold air. Being under the pillow he could inhale his own warm breathing, giving a feeling of false relief to his tired lungs. 

But, mainly, she wanted to avoid at all costs stopping his cough attacks as last week she had seen with horror as once, for the first time, a few drops of blood escaped from his mouth and fell on his white glove. This had been a warning sign for her and his brothers; they tried to lessen the concern by thinking it had been a one-time thing, but this was something that was repeated more consistently with each passing day; soon became a major concern and warning sign, but of course, there was nothing they could do. 

All that week she'd seen blood coming out of his mouth, she didn't want to have that image on his hands or in his handkerchiefs by his bed. That's why she coughed under the darkness and shelter offered by the pillow. Still, she remembered no more overwhelming and painful moment than tonight; she knew this the moment she felt his whole face wet, she was crying heavily under that cotton shelter. 

On the other hand, his brothers Yakko and Wakko were in the room with her, watching her suffer in silence and swallowing all the encouraging phrases Dot had grown tired of hearing; at this point, those words were the only thing they had swallowed in days. 

"Dot, please." Yakko caught her little sister's attention, lifting the tip of the pillow a little to allow some clean air in, as well as to see her. When Dot decided to listen and pulled his face out of his hiding place she let go with his face drenched in tears, tired and red by the effort to cough; it was clear that she was not at his best. 

"Amazing! None of your cuteness stuck to the pillow, it's still intact on your face" Yakko smiled, but part of his heart seeing her in that state fragmented into parts. 

"It's not like makeup that sticks to the pillow, Yakko" 

"No, because you don't need it" The older brother stroked his head. "You was born that way, cute, and that's not taken away with anything..." 

Dot didn't even bother to smile even though she felt the need to, because she was focused on not coughing again, she was still recovering from the previous attack. But she couldn't, she dragged his little hand to that of his older brother and pressed it hard as she lost the battle against his lungs again, forcing her to twist back into the blankets, letting it all come out on a handkerchief she always wore in the other free hand. 

Yakko strained over her hand, seeing Wakko on the other side of the bed wince forming on his face out of sheer concern and discomfort. It was difficult to know what to do or what else to tell you when all physical, material, and moral resources were over; all they had to offer was comfort and companionship to a little girl, her dying sister, who had been losing strength and blood on dirty rags that Yakko brought home for a week at every opportunity he managed to go outside. 

It was just a horrible spectacle. Why should they go through this? They were just kids, she wouldn't have to be living this, and they shouldn't be witnessing it either. If the world were a fairer place and made any sense, then none of this should happen to children like them. His only sin was to be born poor and orphaned. 

Dot took a minute to try to soothe his heavy breathing, watching with defeat the handkerchief in his blood-covered hand. A sad reminder reminding her of his own mortality running out of time. His silence and gaze proved indecipherable to Yakko and Wakko; for the first time, they failed to read their sister's face. 

"It's nothing." Wakko said quickly. "You're probably just hurting yourself when you cough, but that's all. I'll get you some water to get over." He got out of bed and ran to what they might call kitchen; at least a glass of water was something that he could give him. 

When Wakko was in the kitchen, with the glass in his hands he took a moment to calm his emotions, his frustration. The water inside the glass was overflowing thanks to the tremor of his frozen hands; both by fear and by the cold. Two sensations that when they pass through the spine, freeze everything in their path. So was he, frozen in the dark, trying to get the broken sleeves of his sweater to absorb his tears, the only lukewarm thing he could feel at the time. 

On the other hand, Yakko knew it didn't take that long to go get a glass of water; it was evident that he was taking his time. He, for his part, still had his eyes focused on the rag Dot left on the table, noticing that some of the blood had reached his sister's white gloves. Yakko took Dot hands, washed them in silence. Expressionless. As if he had been drained by all emotion, happiness, anger, or sadness; he was tired of it. Dot might think Yakko didn't care what had changed this week, but she knew it wasn't. If there were no witty jokes in response, a cry of frustration or Yakko decided to shut up, then it was because things were really bad; because all this really affected him. 

"..." Dot saw him clean his gloved hands silently, as if erasing the evidence would erase his illness altogether. "Yakko, it's clean now" She struggled to say, realizing that he cleaned to much.

"Sorry" He returned his hands, not without first covering them completely with his, planting a kiss on his knuckles. She smiled at the gesture. 

She would certainly have told him something to make him feel better, to appease the growing fear she knew was growing within him, but she really couldn't say another word. Talking became painful after that, which had never happened before. There was always time to respond ironically, but not this time, not this week. She still tried to open her mouth to say something, whichever helps her not to feel useless without words, but she couldn't. The cough replaced the words, the blood replaced the cough after that, over and over again, for long minutes. 

Wakko hurried with the water when he heard a new attack start from the kitchen and Dot hurried to drink it, hoping for some relief, but it wasn't. 

It wasn't like that at all. It didn't get better at the time, either within 15 minutes, not at the time, or two hours later. This had been the most extensive cough attack of the week, hopefully the little girl found enough energy to suck in an amount of air that would allow her to cry at ease. She could only slowly twist as she cried, tightly squeezing the sheets and hands of his brothers, listening only to the sound of rain, the reassuring and nervous murmurs of his brothers and his own voice drowning in tears and pain. 

God, the Warner brothers had no idea what to do. Her sister's condition only made it worse to this point.The hands that Yakko had previously clean and kiss were now dyed red. The corner of Dot's mouth squirted blood with each new attack approaching; every breath was a pulsating pain in the chest assured. 

After two hours, Yakko noticed how the rain and snow that used to fall on them was beginning to calm down, he could hear it. He couldn't bear to see those little threads of spit and blood hanging in her mouth, so he quickly took the blankets and wrapped Dot's figure to carry her to the door. He was going to take her to Dr. Scratchansniff! He couldn't take another minute of this situation. And if he had to force someone the hard way, he would. Wakko followed him in silence, preparing to go out with his older brother at full speed. 

Wakko, being the most impulsive and hands-free, was the one who opened the door and threw himself out, colliding with a soft, icy wall, which soon buried him in an even colder feeling. He escaped from there just as a dog that doesn't enjoy the snowy days would. They could have laughed at that, but they didn't. 

The exit was completely blocked by meters of snow and frozen water that had been forming the last few hours. 

Wakko turned his eyes in the direction of Yakko, who initially seemed to pale, but soon his face was pursed full of determination. He handed Dot wrapped in the blankets to Wakko and rushed to rip the snow out of the door furiously, digging with his animal impulse in its purest form. He had to get his little sister out of here, take her to a doctor. Someone who could help her! Somebody do something! Anything! 

He allowed himself to be ambitious once in his life and make a wish in his mind, the smallest they could allow him. If they could fulfill something for him, he wish could hear Dot laugh without pauses or pain in his voice. And yet, he knew this was asking too much of life. He wanted to cry, but he'd keep it for later; now he had to take care of this, of now, of this horrible moment. They needed help, whether mystical, divine, or medical; he didn't care anymore. And such help he hoped would be behind that thick wall of snow which he desperately destroyed with his fingers. 

"Please, God. Do something, anything to give my little sister a break. Please make it better. Have mercy on her, she's just a kid. Please, please, please" 

XXXXXXXXXXX 

Nothing. 

After an hour Yakko realized that there was nothing on the other side, just a dense sea of snow that surely covered the doors of other houses; even if they managed to get out of there, they had to cross the three of them a sea of snow to the medical center and start a new excavation, only to check if inside the site there was someone who could give them medical care; that's if they were lucky; because it could also happen that there was no one there. There was nothing assured on the other side, there was no hope that anything would change or something better was waiting for them on the cold night, there was nothing. 

Yakko tried to dig again, but his fingers were numb by the cold, he couldn't move them and try again caused him pain, just touching the snow was like needles sticking in his hands. 

"Yakko..." 

Wakko's low voice stopped him, turning his head to see him, noticing in his body how tired he was and the energy he had exporned the last hour doing this, his heavy breathing and the shaking of his legs having stood on the snow he took out and fell on his feet. He decided to ignore all that and focus on Wakko, who looked at him a few feet sitting on the floor, with his back against a wall and Dot in the space of his legs, hugging her. His younger brother's gaze frightened him enough to crawl back at them, cradled Dot in his frozen arms. 

He looked down to see her up close, she was pale, her black fur was dark grey and a long red line of dry blood came down from her lips to her neck. Yakko didn't want it that way, but his brain kept the image because of the impression this caused him. 

"Ya...kko..." Dot called, clinging his hand to the fur of him "Wa...kko..." She had the attention of both. "I'm...sleepy...can I... sleep...now?" She asked, closing his eyes and slowly keeping the hand with which she had clung to his brother. Both brothers looked terrified, both wanting the same thing.They didn't know to what extent sleeping for her means that she was leaving them. They did not know if she would wake up again after this request. 

"Sleep? Do-don't you want me to tell you the story, Dot?" Yakko asked by typing her nervously and smiling, he didn't want to see her sleep. Dot shook his head and that made him more nervous. 

Dot had never refused one of his stories. Never. Wakko quickly intervened. 

"Come on, Dot! Maybe you think you're old enought for stories, but you're still our little sister. The little one, Dottie!" Wakko used the most effective method he knew to provoke a reaction in it, whatever, even if she hit it he would accept it; but none of that happened. There was no reaction, no good, no bad, no neutral. There was just no reaction. Dot's eyes were fixed somewhere in the room, empty. 

"I'm tired..." she whispered. "I want to...rest" 

The phrase was riddled with depressing ambiguity, they were not sure what she meant by rest. They didn't want to know either; inadvertently both brothers were clinging their hands to that blanket that separated them from their sister's skin, feeling as they both trembled violently compared to her, who was still and silent watching out at nothing. 

They knew they were being selfish, after all she was the one who endured these pains, this discomfort, the weight of being a burden and not having enough energy sometimes or to talk or move. They understood that anyone would be tired of living a life full of ailments like her. But to them, she was the strongest, smartest, most stubborn, and determined person they knew; they didn't see a scenario in which she just gave up. But the truth is that none of them knew what it was like to live every day like this. Much less, they didn't know what it was like to evacuate some of the blood from your body with every breath. 

They wanted to feel allowed to be selfish, to be ambitious; because they weren't asking for riches, they weren't even asking food, they were just asking their sister to be okay, to stay with them. Weren't they even entitled to a request as humble as that? 

Wakko and Yakko stayed close to her throughout the night, sobbing silently when they realized she had fallen asleep, checked many times that night that she would not stop breathing and she did not. Neither of they was allowed to sleep for fear of waking up and seeing that she had lost the fight. Dot Warner don't lose fights. 

But at least now that she was asleep, they could unload all the crying, pain, frustration, complaints and curses that had swallowed up hours and days ago so as not to worry her. At least they were free to cry until they unloaded their hatred against the world, surrounding and protecting Dot's figure in the process, as if this gesture could somehow keep her safe from how horrible the world was with three poor children, especially her. 

Even perhaps, if they cried enough, God could take pity on them and make Dot wake up a little better the next morning and they could leave this night as the simple memory of a scare. 

But it wasn't, the morning had taken his sister a few hours later and when the morning came, only the Warner brothers remained. 

XXXXXXXXXXX 

Yakko didn't want to keep remembering. 

He had trained his brain to make every memory of that early morning replaced by complete darkness because he didn't want to remember it, he didn't want to keep any of that day in his mind. He just...erased it. And yet he knew what had happened, he knew Dot was gone. 

Even if he closed his eyes and concentrated on trying to remember the reaction he and Wakko had, he couldn't. There was nothing else, just darkness. Sometimes, he was only presented in nightmares that he forced himself to forget the next morning. 

This had been last year's winter, and yet his body felt it as if it had been just a few hours ago. He trembled with his hands clenched over the bucket of water in which he was holding his head down, avoiding seeing the mirror in front of him. He no longer wanted things that reminded him of his little sister, because everything, even happy memories, took him back to that night. 

He didn't want to experience this again, he couldn't. Last year he focused on taking care of Wakko, after all it was all he had left; but he was also very consent that the last months, after Dot's death, when he managed to kick the duel deep in his soul to force himself out to seek food, he had neglected his little brother. 

Wakko spent many hours of the day alone and would have preferred this not to be the case, but the reality is that he had no more options available. He had to keep looking for food and there was one less mouth to feed, he had no excuses. He had to do it right this time. He had to take advantage of the fact that Wakko looked like a healthy boy compared to his sister. 

He thought that perhaps life or genetics had been especially cruel to Dot, and that the disease was the result of a genetic chance that had not been in his favor; after all, Wakko had stayed healthy for all these years. He had taken care of every day to ask that he be kept that way; and while they didn't hear his pleas the night he lost Dot, maybe he'd be lucky with Wakko. He really had nothing to lose. 

Yakko sighed heavily, constantly feeling the knot in his throat, containing the urge to cry again. He had grown tired of waking up crying every day, so he tried not to do it that often. Today, however, the knot holding the cry was heavier, it felt like a dry cough which he appeased by covering his mouth with his hand and felt something come out. 

It was blood. 

The sound of a breaking glass woke Wakko up and ignited all his alarms in just a matter of seconds; the speed with which he pulled the blankets off his back and ran out of the bed he now shared with Yakko had been in record time. Bed that just under a year ago had belonged to Dot. The brothers went a long time without stirring, touching or getting on that bed after that fateful night, but eventually the days became much colder, so they needed to stay warm, and together. 

The first night they were brave enough to lie on that big bed, their noses were imbued with the scent their sister had left behind; feeling that all three were lying together again. That night, they both cried until they fell asleep and from there, they did not return to their old beds. 

However, Wakko felt like an intruder most of the time. Sometimes he had a hard time assuming Dot wouldn't come back. In secret, some nights she thought she would enter the room remarkably upset, demanding that they both get out of bed because she could not delay her restorative nap; so he constantly looked up at the curtains, waiting for his sister's arrival. Every night he would fall asleep with the same image and wish that was never fulfilled. These kinds of fantasies made him sleep uneasy, anxious and distressed. The bad hours of sleep turned his heavy sleep into a light one, so all sound woke him up easily and he was on alert quickly. 

He ran to where the sound of crystals came from falling to the ground, coming from the bathroom, from which he saw Yakko come out with his hand dripping with blood. 

“Good morning, lil bro” He greeted with a tense smile. 

“Yakko, you're bleeding!” Wakko rushed to take Yakko's hand and lift it up to prevent gravity from making him lose more blood. “What happened?” Ask, surprised that he didn't show pain. 

“I wanted to move the mirror and it was finished breaking" He explained with a hook, however, the wounds on his knuckles told another story. 

“Did you just drop it?” It was inquisitive, but not too much. He didn't want to expose his suspicion so soon as there was no reason for his brother to do anything silly. 

"It was already broken, I don't know what surprises you” He let go of Wakko's grip and moved his hand to his mouth to lick the wound, in which it was much more common to heal his wounds in this way. “It will heal.” He concluded by smiling slightly, noting that some of the blood had remained on one of his lips, which Wakko noticed with total discomfort. 

The blood near the mouth was something the brothers planted as traumas to their brains. 

The now youngest of the Warner brothers stood on the tip of his feet and in awkward silence wiped his brother's mouth with his sweater's sleeve, with an expression imbued with bitterness. Yakko, for his part, murmured apologies. He knew the kind of reaction the blood caused on his brother, about both actually. They hated blood. 

Yakko lifted him under his arms in a quick embrace, mainly motivated by the expression on his face, the bad time he had just had in the bathroom and last but not least, out of fear. 

If his suspicions were true and now he was starting to get sick, Wakko definitely couldn't know.


End file.
